


love in the time of rebellion

by jaqhad (kyrilu)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Resistance Reborn - Rebecca Roanhorse
Genre: 5+1 Things, Crack, M/M, Multi, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22762855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/jaqhad
Summary: Five times when nearly everyone else in the Resistance seemed to be hooking up except Finn and Poe, and the one time they finally did.
Relationships: BB-8/CB-23 (Star Wars), Kaydel Ko Connix/Beaumont Kin/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn, Ransolm Casterfo/Leia Organa, Suralinda Javos/Jessika Pava
Comments: 13
Kudos: 132





	love in the time of rebellion

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something silly this time. I know it might be a bit weird, but, hey, if I (hopefully) make at least one reader out there laugh, I'm happy.

**1.**

When Suralinda and Jess return from their latest mission, they're raging at each other.

"--wasn't part of the plan! We were supposed to get the supplies and get out of there--"

"Who cares about the plan! I got the evidence, didn't I?"

"Javos, you're not a journalist anymore, you're supposed to follow orders."

"There's more to the Resistance than following orders, Pava," Suralinda snarls.

They've just hopped out of their ships - Suralinda's A-wing looks a little worse for wear, but it's intact - and they’re making their way towards the cavern headquarters on Ajan Kloss.

Poe dashes up to them as they approach the entrance. "Whoa, hey, what happened?"

Jess' mouth is a thin angry line. "Suralinda boarded a pirate ship. Almost torpedoed the whole mission."

"We got the supplies, and we got evidence of the First Order's machinations," Suralinda says, thrusting her chin out. "I showed it to the locals, the Lambrens, and they refused to welcome stormtrooper 'protection' once they found that they were behind the pirate raids all along. The Lambrens are able to hold off the Order for now, though we might have to send in some reinforcements if we can spare any. The mission went just fine."

"You took unnecessary risks.”

Poe looks back and forth between the pilots. Usually they can be prickly with each other, but it's never been this bad before.

With a sigh, he puts a placating hand on Jess' shoulders. "We're all friends here, alright? It sounds like Sura made the right call--"

"See?"

"--but next time, be careful. You should've commed me or the general and asked for backup."

"There wasn't any time for that," Suralinda says. "I had to make a move."

"You wanted to play plucky intrepid reporter, you mean."

And they're back to glaring vibro-daggers at each other, Jess shaking off Poe's hand and stalking closer to Suralinda.

Karé and Snap come up from behind them, twin mirrors of concern.

Karé says, "Why don't you both take a break - grab something to eat - before debrief? C'mon, Jess, Sura."

"I'm sick of this," Jess says, her face white. "Stay out of this, you guys."

Before Poe can react, Jess grabs Suralinda, shoving her into one of the smaller internal caverns -- it's a room full of uniforms and equipment, barred with a durasteel door, which slides shut behind her and Suralinda.

There's a loud thumping noise.

Poe tries to get the door open, but it doesn’t budge. Locked.

Snap says, a strange expression on his face, "Poe, I think we should back off--"

What? Poe's seen these two in action -- Jess is one of the toughest humans he's seen go hand-to-hand with stormtroopers. And it used to be an unspoken maxim in flight school: don’t piss off Suralinda Javos, or she’ll spit caustic venom in your face. It’s not a good idea to have them locked in the same enclosed space.

He hears Jess through the door, muffled: "Your life is worth more than a datacard, Suralinda, you idiot."

Suralinda says something soft that Poe can’t make out.

Jess, furious: "I can't always save you. I can't lose you, too, you get it? _I can't lose you, too._ "

And he hears a sound that definitely isn't a punch or acid getting spit out -- in fact, probably a long Squamatan tongue doing _something else_ \-- and Poe feels his face heat in mortification as he stumbles backward.

"When the pfassk did _that_ happen," he says. 

"Told you," Snap says. "I had a feeling. This is giving me some serious deja vu."

Poe raises an eyebrow. "You and Karé aren't as... explosive."

"Nah, reminds me of some old friends from a long time ago," Snap says. “Nice, though, isn't it? The old Black Squadron crew have found their other halves.”

If you call whatever Suralinda and Jess are doing in the supply closet finding their other half. But he’s not wrong. Poe has always thought that the two make good partners, even if they don’t always see eye to eye. 

Still - “What am I? Meteor dust?” Poe jokes. “It’s fine. I’ve got Beebee-Ate.”

Snap has a funny look on his face again, though now it’s directed at Poe. “You mean you’re not--”

“Let him figure it out, babe,” Karé says, with an exasperated eyeroll. “Say hi to Finn for me during your dejarik night.”

Sometimes Poe can never understand his friends. He shrugs it off. “Will do. Thanks for that jogan fruit tart recipe, by the way. Finn liked it -- I still wish I could’ve made my dad’s koyo pie, but there are no koyos here on Ajan Kloss.” 

Karé smiles. “Of course.”

Snap puts his head in his hands.

**2.**

“So,” Connix says, sidling up to Finn as he’s putting tiny hats on the _Millennium_ _Falcon’s_ porgs, “Rose Tico. She’s nice.”

“Um, yeah,” Finn says. He’s half-distracted, since Dita is being squirmy as usual, splashing in the bowl of water that Finn had filled up to keep her occupied.

“She’s smart.”

“Yeah.”

“I know it. Beaumont knows it, too.”

“Sure.” Finn takes out a handful of crumbs from last night’s dinner and tosses it in the bowl. Dita warbles and starts to snatch them up. “What’s this all about?”

“I heard a rumor that you and Rose might’ve had a moment on Crait.” 

Finn frowns. “Where’d you hear that?”

It’s just like being in the First Order all over again. The soldierly tradition of scuttlebutt never dies, no matter what side you’re on, but it’s the first time that Finn’s ever found himself the focus of it.

(Shortly after the events of Coronet City:

“I don’t understand how that guy’s single,” Poe says, shaking his head as Finn, still clad in a white suit, talks to one of the rescued prisoners--an auburn haired woman, who Suralinda is pretty sure is the singer Hevasi Joy.

“Huh,” Suralinda says. “So, that Jedi girl and that shy mechanic and--”

“Nothing going on, seems like,” Poe says, sipping his cocktail. 

Shortly after that:

“And then he said there was nothing going on!” Suralinda exclaims, to a crowd of roaring Resistance members. “What kind of guy does that? You do your friend a favor and dress up his crush in a _gorgeous_ suit, the trousers a size slightly too tight--and they go undercover at a party as ‘business partners’--and nothing happens!”)

“Around,” Connix says vaguely. “So, I just want to double check, are you still having moments? Or even if you are, are you okay with--”

“What,” Finn says. “ _What._ ”

“I’m gonna take that as a go-ahead,” Connix says. She crouches down to peer at the porg. “Dita, right? Rose says that it’s best to distract her with shiny objects.”

“... I knew that.” Finn reaches for the pocket mirror from his satchel that he keeps stashed for these occasions. Immediately, Dita is entranced, and Finn slips the hat on. “You think it’s going to work out?”

Connix nods. “Yeah,” she says, with a smile, and Finn blinks, recalls all the times he’s seen her and Kin and Rose hunched over datapads, studying, planning, debating. “So, why are you putting hats on these birds, anyway?”

“Poe never remembers all their names. I think the hats will help -- they’re meant to be color-coded.”

Sort of like squadrons with their ships and their helmets, that’s Finn’s thinking. Dark black for Dita; moss green for Mady; teal blue for Tessalie; and so on. 

“Good luck with… everything,” Finn tacks on, awkwardly. “It’s, uh, great. Love in the time of war and all that. Just like Rose once told me before, even if we didn’t work out.”

“Good luck to you, too.”

 _Good luck with what_? Finn wonders, while he ties on an earth brown hat on Erci. 

**3.**

The recruits from the Alderaan Station are a bit strange.

The way Poe’s heard it, they lived there all their lives -- a floating ship made from the ruins of the first Death Star, survivors reclaiming the quadanium bones of the monster that blew up their home.

Don’t get him wrong, they faithfully serve in the Resistance alongside everyone else, hardworking and respectful. They’re even among the few that can get away with calling Leia _Princess_ and _your majesty_ instead of _General,_ and she doesn’t protest.

But they’re a sheltered bunch, grown up isolated from most of the galaxy, the products of an environment that values keeping culture alive over all else. They marvel at the greenery and rains of Ajan Kloss, even as other Resistance members grumble about the heat and the bug bites.

And then there are times like these--

Leia is consulting her usual inner circle on strategy, officers clustered in the main cavern control room. Then she turns her head, murmurs, and Ransolm Casterfo--another one of the prisoners rescued from Corellia, a fellow ex-senator and an old friend of hers--plucks a pin from her intricately braided hair.

A loose strand falls from Leia’s hair, and she brushes it behind her ear, the stress lines of her face seeming to relax a fraction.

One of the Alderaanians--a tech named Linex Covis--lets out a squeak and looks like he’s going to pass out.

“It’s just like an x-holo,” whispers another Alderaanian -- Meva Tanzer. “It’s _obscene._ I can’t believe they’re doing it in _public._ ”

“What are you talking about?” Poe asks, bemused, peering up from the holographic ship blueprints he’s studying.

Meva flushes, then says, “Clearly, Commander, the princess and that… former senator… are intimate. Our hair, it’s private, and it’s not meant to be let down by anyone other than our loved ones.” She gestures to her own network of braids.

“It must be the long exposure to non-Alderaanian culture and company,” Linex mutters. “Her majesty is not appropriately discreet.”

Poe thinks that they’re just imagining things until the Resistance has a party welcoming the new recruits from Dantooine. 

Snap plays some songs on his valachord, while Karé sings or plays duets with him; and then Leia requests an Alderaanian waltz, and she’s dancing and bantering with _that guy_ , who, despite his years of imprisonment, is classically handsome and a fair amount of standard years younger than her, all sharp cheekbones and blond curls and crinkly charming smiles.

“Are we sure that guy’s trustworthy?” Poe says, frowning.

He hadn’t been monitoring the news as actively as Suralinda at the time, but from what he can remember of the headlines, this Casterfo guy ruined Leia’s political career. Poe almost got in a couple of bar fights over it. Who the kark cares if Vader is her dad, she’s _Leia Organa._

“Well, many of his old colleagues and friends now make up the First Order,” Suralinda says. “But he’s not bad himself. I’ve been working on political messaging stuff with him. He does care about the galaxy, which is a rare trait in a politician.” 

“Hmm.”

“What, are you jealous? I’d hit it, except I’m taken.” She has a smugly satisfied look on her face, brown eyes flickering over to watch Jess, who’s talking with the new recruits. 

“I’m not jealous of _Casterfo._ It’s like… seeing your mom date someone who is barely older than you.” Not like the general is his mother, but still. He feels like someone should have this type of reaction, since it’s not like Ben Solo is here.

“She’s a grown-up princess general and she can take care of her own damn self,” Suralinda says, rolling her eyes. “You’re just bored, Poe. Why don’t you go dance?”

“With you? Thought you already have a girl. And you'd just step on my feet--”

“Oh, shut up,” Suralinda says. “Not me.” She pulls his elbow, turns him around. “With him.”

Finn. 

For not the first time, Poe is struck staring at his friend -- his _friend_ \-- who looks incredible in that old jacket of his. There’s a sunbeam of light coming through a crack in the cave ceiling, and by some miracle, it lights up Finn, playing over his strong shoulders, his slowly growing hair, his warm eyes.

“Buddy,” Poe says, clearing his throat. “D’you know the Alderaanian waltz?”

Finn doesn’t. So Poe shows him, and they twirl together to the soft melodic sounds of the valachord. 

**4.**

BB-8 pulls Finn away from the party. He requests Finn specifically, even as Poe looks reluctant to let go of Finn’s hands, and Finn feels a disappointed tug in his chest.

Yet the rollie sounds genuinely distressed, so Finn follows the astromech to the _Millenium Falcon._

Finn’s binary is improving, but--

“Slow down,” he says, with a groan. “Let me get this straight. A droid came along with the recruits from Dantooine. You’re worried about talking to her?”

An affirmative beep.

“So, she’s a friend of yours,” Finn says. “What’s the problem with that?”

BB-8 lets out the binary equivalent of a sigh, then, more slowly, explains.

Finn screws up his brow in concentration, doing his best to parse his way through the beeps. 

BB-8 hasn’t seen his bot friend in a while. One of the latest mission reports had mentioned her being captured and tortured by the First Order—she had got out okay, but the news had freaked out BB-8, and now he’s asking… 

“You want to know the best way to support her and give her a gift to remember you by?” Finn asks, incredulous. “Why are you asking me? I’m new to all this… friends stuff.” 

In reply, BB-8 rolls up to Finn and taps his extendable claw on the jacket—Poe’s jacket—that he’s still wearing. Then he adds: _Bwoop – beep – bee – beep._

“Oh,” Finn says, quietly. “I’m sorry to hear about Ivee. I know what it’s like.”

He thinks of Slip’s hand against his helmet. He thinks of every mission, worrying about his friends’ safety. It’s a new feeling, a scary feeling, that he’s still adjusting to -- in the First Order, you were never supposed to care about your comrades, only the mission -- but here, it’s everything, it’s why they fight. 

He remembers Poe coming back from a skirmish with the First Order, burned from blaster bolts. Finn had nearly leapt to hug him, running his fingers through Poe’s hair, thanking the stars, thanking the Force, thanking the universe that he’s alright and alive in Finn’s arms.

BB-8 twists his head. _Bweep._

“Okay,” Finn says. He sets his hand on BB-8’s crown. “I’ll help you.”

\--

As Kaz Xiono prepares to leave Ajan Kloss and return to the _Colossus,_ the new recruits safely dropped off, he notices something different about the red-and-blue astromech who’s gotten into the _Fireball._

“CB-23, where’d you get that hat?” 

**5.**

Chewbacca returns from shore leave on the spa resort planet Ephemera. His fur is silky and clean after days of hot spring soaking.

It seems like he’s succeeded where Poe failed, having recruited Maz Kanata. She’s ready to provide resources and tap into her contacts on the Resistance’s behalf.

Poe’s about to ask Chewie what on earth he did to convince the stubborn old pirate queen to join.

Then he sees Chewie gallantly offering his arm to Maz as she steps out of her ship, and he realizes that he’s probably better off not asking.

**+1**

“I can't wait to go home -- I mean, get back to base,” Finn says, just as he and Rey wrap up a mission. They had been following some wild leads that Beaumont Kin had unearthed--chasing the trail of Jedi and Sith artifacts--and it had been a long week.

They had run into this crazy old Ithorian who insisted that this Jedi gauntlet was the key to his parents’ deaths -- even though the artifact was like five thousand years old and clearly unrelated -- and Finn had to whip out his recently built blue lightsaber to clash blades with the Ithorian’s vibro-ax-wielding bodyguard.

He’s still so new to this Force stuff. He grumbles this out loud with a scowl.

“You’re getting better,” Rey says, touching his arm with one hand as she powers up the _Falcon’s_ hyperdrive. “That Force push was _amazing._ ”

“You were the one who ended up knocking out the bodyguard,” Finn reminds her.

Sighing, he stretches, wonders if Poe’s doing okay. Even with the war won, the Resistance still has clean-up work to do, rounding up remaining First Order forces and negotiating with governments.

For Finn, these Jedi side-quests can be a nice distraction, but at the end of the day, he worries and doubts.

He’s dashing off after legends he knows that he can’t ever live up to. That’s Rey, not _him._

Nevertheless, there’s a part of him that can’t help it -- he wants to see where this goes, this shining thing inside of himself, like a familiar song that he’s been hearing ever since he was a boy called a number. It’s nothing legendary; it’s just him, and all he wants to do is make it louder and brighter.

His thoughts are interrupted by Rey, who says, “I’ve been missing Ajan Kloss, too. Although I suppose I can’t help feeling out of place. Nearly everyone seems to be pairing up these days.”

There’s been a rash of weddings on Ajan Kloss. Rebels happy to be alive and in love: Peet Deretalia and Theo Meltsa; Suralinda Javos and Jessika Pava; even two ex-stormtroopers from Company 77 - Forten and Jayelle.

“There’s always great food,” Finn points out. And he doesn’t mind dancing with Poe every time.

“You’re right,” Rey agrees. “Are you going to have that jogan fruit tart at yours? I keep thinking of it ever since you gave me a slice.”

Finn pauses. “Mine?”

“I thought…” Rey frowns. Then she shakes her head, an amused smile on her face. “Never mind.”

“I’m not getting married anytime soon, unless that’s an offer,” Finn says, his eyebrows raised.

“Force, no,” she tells him, “you _snore._ ”

“I do not!” 

They continue bantering until the _Falcon_ lands on Ajan Kloss, and Rey stays inside to nap on one of the bunks. Next to the clearing of ships, Finn is greeted with the sight of General Poe Dameron planting a tree, hefting a small sapling. He’s shirtless, muscles rippling, his ring necklace glimmering from the burning sun rays--

“Finn, you’re back!” Poe says, wiping sweat from his brow. “How did your Jedi mission go?”

“What the pfassk are you doing?” Finn blurts out.

“Planting trees,” Poe says, in a ‘ _isn’t it obvious?’_ voice. “I had to consult Major Angon at first, but he says it’s ecologically safe and won’t harm the native plants. I picked Alderaanian chinar trees for our upcoming ceremony for Leia and the others -- and some koyo trees, because I thought they would complement them.” 

Poe makes sure the tree he’s planting is standing straight. Then, he asks Finn to help him tie stakes to it, so it won’t lean over, and Finn dutifully and carefully follows his lead. Poe works efficiently, swiftly, as if the tree’s his X-wing.

“What do you think?” Poe says, once they’re finished. “Looking good?”

Finn nods. He can barely tear his eyes away from Poe’s chest and arms and stomach.

“I’m glad I was able to get these in the ground,” Poe says. “I got some help earlier, too. I’m surprised how many rebels don’t know how to plant a tree.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I’m sure they were very curious about… tree planting.” 

Something in Finn is screaming, and it’s not the Force.

“With Ajan Kloss’ rains, it’ll take only a couple months to grow a decent height,” Poe says, surveying the mini-orchard. “I hope by then, the koyo fruits will be ripe enough. I miss the taste of it, and I know for sure you’ll like it. I’ve been meaning to make you koyo pie for ages--”

Finn stares at Poe, speechless, and before he can stop himself, he’s pushing Poe back against one of the trees--a proper full grown tree in the forest, not one of the saplings--holding him there with the press of his hand, and okay, maybe the Force, just a little.

Poe is looking at him with laughter in his eyes. “You like what you see, General?”

“I can’t believe you,” Finn says. “I think I want to kiss you. A lot. If you’re okay with that.”

He’s still processing this. But, suddenly, a lot of things make a lot more sense. This past year and whatever’s been going on between him and Poe. 

“You can kiss me however many times you want,” Poe says, and that's exactly what Finn does.


End file.
